Soul Rest
by blossomtoxin
Summary: He was there, and when their eyes connected she sensed all of the swirling emotions that seemed to amass around him. Hunger, hatred, confusion and...loneliness. He was dark, and every time their eyes connected she had the vague sensation that there would be nowhere to run. Kylo Ren x Rey
1. Dreams

_Rey tasted the pith of red wine in her mouth. It had created a film over her tongue and teeth, and it was acrid. It was as if she'd fallen asleep having swallowed mouthfuls of red wine and woken hours later, the vinegar clinging to her tongue. There was the furor of warmth on her face, and when she rolled out of the dust, using her arm to prop herself up, she knew it was fire. She could smell it, and the ash clogged up her eyes to a degree that she could not see. She was struck with the need to get out of the smoke, as it would kill her more quickly than the fire itself. She was unsure if she could feel her limbs, but had the vague sense of getting up and moving forward._

 _She moved towards something that she could make out, a vague dark spot that stood out among the burning pyre. He was there, and when their eyes connected she sensed all of the swirling emotions that seemed to amass around him. Hunger, hatred, confusion and...loneliness. He was dark, and every time their eyes connected she had the vague sensation that there would be nowhere to run._

Rey woke up with the sensation that she couldn't breathe. She was gasping, and she was so sure that there was real and solid smoke in her trachea and lungs. She started coughing, trying to right herself. She fumbled for the water on her night stand, sending her phone flying across the wooden floor. Finally, she had the glass within her grasp and she pulled it up, swallowing down all of it in a panic.

She reached for her glasses, putting them on her face and blinking in the dark. The room was empty, dark, and cold. She glanced next to her, finding her black cat 'Luci' blinking at her with wide, moon yellow eyes. He didn't seem to know what the fuss was about, but she felt relieved that he didn't alert to anything...even if she had the feeling that someone had been in here with her. She knew Luci would have reacted much differently if that were true, however.

She slid out of bed, trying to retrieve her phone. It had slid under her dresser, a pockmarked old thing made out of teak and washed to be a strange sea-water gray color. Her feet quickly became numb with the cold on the floor, and she bent down and got on her knees, reaching down underneath until she had it within her grasp. She pulled it out and released a sigh, glad to find that the screen hadn't cracked.

She didn't have much luck with phones. They often turned off in her presence, or refused to work at all - as if something about her disrupted their working completely. It was much the same with most electronics, which made life a bit difficult for Rey. She saw what time it was: 4:24 am. She didn't want to admit to herself that she had been waking up every morning at exactly this time. It wasn't as if she was capable of avoiding or ignoring prophetic signals. This seemed to be one.

She thought that if only she could get a glimpse of his face, a real and true glimpse of his face, the nightmares would stop. However, in the ever shifting landscape of dreams...she thought it was probably unlikely. She could only remember his eyes, cold and flinty black. Maybe in times of tenderness, they would glow amber. In her dream, they were always like obsidian stone.

Rey had the sensation that she had met him before, but when she shuffled through the catalog of her memories she could say that she had never met anyone like him.

She placed her phone back into a safe place, her fingertips brushing one of the crystals she had laid out atop her dresser. She heard Luci's soft paws hit the hollow floor, and she turned to find him sitting behind her. He was an odd thing, had been since he was a kitten. Silent and austere, she was sure that there was something other than cat resting there behind those eyes.

"Wet food?" She asked.

She smiled, watching him haul furry ass out into the kitchen. At least with food she could count on him to act like a cat. She followed, bending down to retrieve an old blanket from the heirloom rocking chair she kept. She threw it around her shoulders and shoved her feet into fuzzy slippers, glad for the warmth.

The small cottage she had come to occupy was attached to a small shop. It was right against the coast line, which meant that in the winter it got so cold that Rey sometimes couldn't stand it. Thankfully, this was just before the freeze, but Rey recognized the restlessness in the stormy crashing sea and read it in the froth. It wouldn't be long before winter came. She often wondered if she should rely on more modern methods to heat the cottage, but the thought of having a work man out to install a central heating system made her skin crawl just a bit.

She relied on her fireplace, and sometimes on her 'skills' to keep the place warm. Luci never seemed bothered by any of it, but that didn't mean she didn't catch him chasing the sunlight rays that seeped in through the curtains when the days were warmer.

She sold herbal remedies out of her shop. Most of it was medicinal, and it was all hand made. She sold tarot decks and crystals, and books about the craft, though none of them really spoke to the real craft. At least, not the craft that she had come to know - the kind that blessed her with an ability to change the air around her. The kind that often found her slipping, unnoticed, into others thoughts.

It made her business easier. She always seemed to know what people wanted without having to ask.

At first, the locals had hated her. Or rather, they had feared her. She had woken up to shattered glass, and rocks with messages tied to them. One particularly tough local boy had tried to set the shop on fire, only to be met with the purifying cleanse of a big, coastal storm.

Maybe she had been lucky.

Rey was used to being nomadic. She was used to not fitting in anywhere, really. She hoped that this place stuck to her. The more that she refused to leave, the more used to her the locals grew. She even began to have a steady customer base. Sometimes, though, they asked her to do things she should not do, or things that they should not know she was capable of.

Sometimes she charged so much money that they would change their minds. Sometimes she told them that there were certain bits that were beyond her meddling with. She didn't feel comfortable toying with love, and felt less comfortable toying with death.

Luci let out a plaintive chirp to let her know that he was waiting.

* * *

When the sun came up, painting the sky with pastel pinks and oranges, she got dressed in a pair of jeans. She wore heavy duty work boots over them, intending on going out into her garden and mucking around. The soil would be growing cold, and there were items that needed checking before the winter came on fully. There would be plants that would die and regrow in the spring, and there would be plants, hardier than most, that would survive the chill somehow. Rey always found herself amazed by it.

First, however, she had decided to take herself down to the super market.

The town wasn't so far behind that it didn't have it's very own mega-store, though Rey preferred the locally owned market that opened early and closed early. It was run by a soft old couple who had welcomed her from the start, though they had been reticent at first.

She hopped on her bike, taking a moment to say hello to a spider who was hanging in a dew-sparkling web. These critters, she could feel them pulsing out against the earth, an integral part of it. She didn't kill them if she could avoid it. The day was chilly, but Rey began to feel some of the warmth return to her limbs as the light bled out through the small town. She rode down the hill with exuberance, but was nearly unable to stop on time. She locked her bike up in front of the store, and entered it.

It was strangely empty. The neon lights were lit up, but there was no one at the register.

"Hello?" Rey tried. Something prickled at the back of her neck.

She ignored it, despite warning herself that she really shouldn't ignore these feelings.

She grabbed a small basket and went down the aisles, picking out biscuits for tea and eggs. She kept the trip small, considering she was going to have to haul it all home on her bike. It was in front of the dairy freezer that she began to feel that odd feeling again. It was a prickle down her neck, ice in her veins, and her chest tightening.

When she turned, it was like trying to capture a ghost in full view. The presence was not solid, dancing around corners. It was playful at first, but beneath this Rey could sense that whatever it was it meant her no good. In a blink, she saw a man she thought she recognized out in the middle of the road, his hair turned mahogany with the sun on it. She followed him, hopping onto her bike as he seemed to disappear like ink being dropped in water. She pedaled so hard up the road that she was out of breath, but she did not catch sight of him again...and the feeling was gone.

She was so discombobulated by the time she returned to the shop, the little old shopkeeper was aghast. She'd broken her eggs. Her face was so red that it was alarming.

"You look as if you've seen a ghost, dear," She said. "Come inside for a moment, I'll make you some tea,"

* * *

here we go again.


	2. Virulence

Rey declined the offer of tea, despite knowing that she had disappointed the old woman. Normally, she would have taken up the offer just to avoid conflict, but she was so unsettled that she felt herself wishing she could get home as quickly as possible. The old woman, Liddie was her name, told her to go pick out some new eggs. Rey tried to pay for the smashed ones, but she wouldn't have it. She launched into a story about how they were able to get them half priced because of her nephews farm, but Rey was barely paying attention as she thumbed out the cash required for the purchase.

When Liddie tried to hand her her change, Rey was so out of it that it took her a few moments to realize the woman was calling her name. She apologized quickly and took the change, shoving it into her pocket and grabbing up her groceries.

"Oh dear, do be careful on your bike," She said. "You seem done for,"

"Thank you Liddie, sorry about the mess!" Rey said as she made her way out of the door.

The sun had come up fully by then. Rey had the idea that she would be safe from whatever had followed her out of her dreams, and imagined a cloaked, faceless man fading away like smoke in the sunlight. She tried to bolster herself with the image, though she was uneasy. She had a feeling that she would see him again, whoever he was.

She rolled her bike home, finding that Luci had somehow gotten out of the house. He was waiting, tail flicking, in front of her home. She had never seen such a picture of calm.

He had always been a strange cat, prone to completing tasks that seemed impossible for a normal cat to complete.

Rey put her small haul of groceries away and made herself breakfast. She brewed tea and made toast with jam before heading out into the chill of her garden. The day had gotten warmer, though the dark soil retained the chill as she dug around in it. She got so caught up in her work, she didn't realize how much time had passed until she heard the church bell tolling for the evening services.

She finished a few more tasks, gathering up her supplies before she was forced to turn around and look at her front gate. She heard a faint sniffling, and she was sure it (probably) wasn't Luci. She hadn't seen him since that morning, but he always showed back up after he'd satisfied his nefarious feline instincts. She hefted her basket full of various plants up and saw a small girl standing at her stone path. The girl was the source of the noise, and it looked like she had something clasped in her hand.

 _Oh no._

"Hello," Rey said, in her kind tones. "What's wrong, little one?"

"My mouse," She sniffed, trying to choke out words in between threatening sobs. "He's sick,"

"Let me see," Rey said, and the girl opened her hands to reveal a very deceased little white mouse. The girl sniffled again, letting out a small whimper.

Rey always felt conflicted. She could not save every mouse, and she knew that if she did so, all of the children would start to come to her with deceased pets. The village would begin to have a bad reputation for animals coming back to life. However, something about this girl's open, miserable face made Rey feel for her.

"Come on and bring him inside," She said, placing her hand at her shoulder. The girl nodded and carried him into the shop side of her cottage.

Rey took the creature gently from the girl and told her to turn around and close her eyes as tightly as she could. It was no simple process, breathing life back into something. It was what her mother had told her never to do, never to allow anyone to see her doing - and here she was, disobeying. Rey focused all of her intentions on the small, lifeless body. Drawing from all of the life around her, she took a bit of each plant, each animal out in the dark - focusing it all into the small creature that laid in her hands. The mouse came to life slowly. She was thankful it hadn't gone too long for it to be beyond hope, but once she heard the small chitter, she knew it had worked.

"You can open your eyes,"

The girl turned around and accepted the small creature in the palms of her hands. The look in her eyes made Rey think that it was worth it, but even then, she wasn't so sure.

"Thank you, miss witch!" She was quick to scuttle out from the cabin, mouse in hands.

"You're welcome," Rey said lamely, sure that the girl hadn't heard her. She didn't seem to realize what exactly Rey had done.

She felt drained. It had just been a small mouse, but even then, it made her exhausted.

* * *

She hadn't had any other business that day, so she shut the door and went inside, intent on making dinner and having a glass of wine. She layered up in warm clothing and started a fire, doing her best with two hands instead of resorting to magic. Fire magic had never been her strong point, and it seemed less dangerous to attempt it as a normal human being might.

She uncorked a bottle of red wine, and made herself a small salad for dinner. Her appetite always waned a bit after she used her 'power', and she made another pact with herself that she wouldn't use it for that purpose again (though she always found some reason to break it).

She was sitting in front of the fire with her wine glass in hand when she heard Luci meow at the window. She glanced up, finding his moon yellow eyes staring at her expectantly. _Let me in. Let me in._ She sighed and stood up, prying the window open and watching as he hopped in, his paws making a soft thunk on the floor.

"Where have you been?"

He weaved in and out of her legs, a signal that he had probably only come home at the behest of his stomach. She fed him, listening to him crunch away. She shut the window and returned to her chair, finishing her glass of wine and falling asleep.

 _Rey heard the sound of a whip cracking, harsh and hurtful leather against soft and pliant skin. The boy cried out his pain, begging that his abuser stop. He was promising that he wouldn't be bad again, his voice echoing through a cold and empty place. Rey heard the crack of the whip again, flinching. Just as she thought there would be no end to the cracking of the whip, it stopped. She heard a voice, rasping and unkind, though it sounded as if she was far away and submerged into a deep body of water. She could not make out his words, but she felt their intent chill along her spine._

 _She found herself walking, walking towards a presence she recognized but could not see. She had an overwhelming desire to help the boy who cried quietly in the dark, but the hallway was a labyrinth of twists and turns. She could no more ground herself in it than a cat could not chase a mouse._

 _The dream shifted (as dreams often do), and she could hear only the sound of the whip. The boy was no longer crying, though she could feel that he was no longer a boy. She could see the scarring on his back, rough and ugly, as if he had been trying to grow a thicker skin. She could sense his anger, seething out into the stars, controlled and contained. There was only conflict there, reverence mixed up with a good deal of resentment._

 _She caught vague pictures of a mouse scuttling beneath floorboards, one that resembled the mouse she'd saved earlier that day. It felt as if she had opened her eyes for the first time, though dreams could never be trusted. When she did open her eyes, she found herself no longer in the maze filled with one man's pain, but in her garden. She gaped, finding him there in front of her._

 _He was much taller than she was, with a mane of curling dark hair that sprouted from his cranium and touched his collar bone. His skin was so pale it was almost sickly, and it's paleness was offset by the utter black of his clothing. He wore leather, and it seemed as if he had come from another time entirely. Was he wearing a cape? The most striking thing about him was the oddity of his face, a full mouth set in a tense line, one glowing yellow eye set out against one that was hidden beneath an eye patch. Another injury, perhaps? He was all fury and fire, the same presence she had sensed earlier. She met his gaze with a mixture of fear, and elation. He was so familiar, though she was sure she had never seen him before in her life._

 _"I see you, witch,"_

 _The last word was spit out like a curse._

Rey started awake with a gasp.

Luci was yowling, miserably. She wondered if it had been his racket that had woken her up, but she realized that he had alerted to something that had made him uncomfortable. When she got up and looked to the window, he hissed, darting underneath one of her tables.

"What is wrong with you?" She said, under her breath.

When she moved to the door, he darted in front of her, nearly tripping her. She watched him, suddenly a feral animal. He hissed, and growled, and yowled. He did not want her to go outside. When she peered in the window, her vision blurry and sleep addled - she was sure she saw him still standing in the garden. When she looked again, he was gone.

Eventually, Luci settled down, becoming sleepy from his rage and finding his way into the bed. He fell asleep, but Rey was already unsettled. She thought she could try to catch a few beats of sleep, but she realized she wouldn't be able to fall asleep. She couldn't call her emotion fear, exactly. It was more like dread. Dread for what might be coming. Had she sent up a signal, a bright white light into the sky when she'd helped that little girl? What did he want with her?

Whatever his intent was, it didn't feel good.

She began to feel as if she was being hunted. Hunted for some unearthly reason only he could know.

The Conflicted Man.

Rey waited for the sun to come up. Somehow, perhaps lamely, she felt protected by it. She went out into the garden, barefooted and covered in a blanket. She was shocked to find that the expanse of her garden where he had been standing had rotted away, over night. The produce had shriveled, and the herbs had turned into ash. She gasped, letting out a mournful sound as she dropped to her knees. She took the plants, which had once held life, into her hands. So many of them melted away as if they had never been there. She had never seen anything like it, the virulent rot that seemed to be spreading.

It was total destruction. By the end of the day, the entire garden had died.

* * *

i've mostly been writing for ao3, so if i miss some of the editing I do for ao3 i am sorreeee


	3. I see you

Kylo Ren always woke up with the snap of a whip in his ears. There was a sheen of sweat that broke on his pale skin, reminding him of the years that he had spent fighting not to make a noise. To cry was a weakness, and it was one he had been taught to repress. He expected to see his master's facade, hanging over him like a sickly ghoul, but he remembered where he was. He had been unleashed on the world.

His back stung, the pain striking it's way down his spine - the scars forever embedding themselves firmly in his memories. The motel smelled like many years of cigarette smoke. When the shower ran hot, the steam caused the tar to drip down the walls, staining the business grade white paint an uneasy yellow. It reminded him of vomit. The noises the other occupants made sank through the thin walls, as if they were only wallpaper. He heard the blare of old TVs, arguments, drug use, and even the skitter of the foul bugs that infested some of the mattresses. But even they were not hungry enough to go near Kylo Ren.

He had seen her in his dreams. It was a connection he had been forced into fostering since he was a boy. Snoke had insisted he keep to the shadows, a mere presence in her dreams - though now she was striking out into his. She was like touching a hot grill. He saw the danger in letting her in, but there was no way that the connection could be one sided. He would be unable to find her, if it was.

Or at least that was what his master had told him.

She had not been what he had been expecting. She was a young girl, defiant and fearful. He felt her mourning the loss of her garden keenly, as if she reverberated in his chest after the dream ended. She was not an old crone who had intentions to kill him as surely as he had intentions to kill her. She was different from the others he had hunted. The dream had not been enough. He could only see her and he had gained no clues as to where she was. Something muddied her and Ren knew that it was likely that something was masking her presence.

Ren was restless in a way that was totally unfathomable to him. He hated her. No, he loathed her. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her face and he was filled with some inexplicable emotion that verged uncomfortably on desire. He reminded himself that it was the desire for blood, and fire.

He tried to comfort himself with memories, and he tried to strip the memory of her from his skin.

He wished that it was quiet.

Ren slid out of the bed, his feet finding the threadbare carpet. He did not turn the light on, instead reaching out to turn the light on his phone to see what time it was. It was just after 2 am. He set the device back on the nightstand and stood up. He felt pain, an old phantom pain, and he ignored it.

 ** _It is the memories that haunt you, not your flesh._**

 ** _She is no more human than you are. By killing them, you kill what is evil in you!_**

His master's snake-like whisper rattled through his brain, re-aligning him with his purpose.

Reaching out across the rooms that connected to his, he used the force of his will to steal the air from them. He drew it, shaking, from their lungs. He tasted surprise and resistance at first, and then there was only sleep. Peace, at least for a time.

Kylo Ren was not fool enough to leave a massacre in a motel, despite how tempting it had been and how difficult it had been to stay his hand. Snoke had berated him for his lack of impulse control, his emotion. He had tried to kill every last bit of humanity until he resembled the monster that stood then in the dark of a small, dirty motel bathroom.

He purposefully did not look in the mirror as he turned the water on as hot as it would go.

* * *

To ensure a true death, it had been common to burn a witch on a pyre. As the years had gone on and the modern world had taken over it had become less feasible to do so. That did not mean that the Order had not adapted to their purpose. Snoke had many hunters, just like him, to ensure the cleansing of the world. Witches would take over if it weren't for the last line of defense. Kylo was special to him. He had the same skill.

It made him like a built in GPS for Snoke - it was easier to find them with Ren.

Ren had been separated from the others, and he had been saved for the harshest punishments.

His skill had grown in it's intensity and sometimes he could see terror reflected even in his Master's eyes, the realization that even Snoke might have been toying with something that was beyond him. Ren had not seen his parents since he had been a toddler. He could not recall their faces. Even when he tried to bring them up, shuffling through the memories of his early years they completely eluded him.

Ren stood in the shower until the water ran cold and he lingered even then. It was a shock and his fragile body began to shiver in the onslaught. When the chill became too much and his teeth chattered he turned the water off, glad for the feeling of ice in his veins.

He would need to be gone before the motel came back to life. They would begin to talk. Their human sensitivities, the ones that were mostly ignored, would turn them to the strange dark presence that lingered just at the edges. Obviously an outcast, despite his attempts to blend in with them.

They wouldn't know why, they would just know _who._

A witch was an oddity, condemned forever to live at the outer edges. Snoke had given him a life. Ren tried to bring up the small kernel of thankfulness he carried around for him, but what came up with it was the stark picture of _her_ face.

The contact with her had made him exhausted. It was the kind of exhausted that only sleep would cure but even sleep remained elusive these days, and he could no longer remain in the motel. He could smell only the dirty sheets and the tar, and he had a desire to breathe fresh air. It would be better to sleep damp beneath the stars than it would be to remain there. His body was ever at odds with him.

Ren dressed in plainclothes, choosing (always) dark colors. He pulled on a heavy woolen coat that was black in color, putting the collar up around his neck. His hair was damp, and there was a chill but Ren had always been imperceptible to the changes in the weather. He would not grow ill. He pulled on a scuffed pair of work boots with a steel reinforced toe, each caked with dirt from his various trips through the woods. Witches seemed to prefer hiding out in the woods, though it only made it easier for him to take them back to Snoke.

Ren gathered up his arsenal, mostly sharp, vicious looking knives. He carried a bit of everything with him in case he managed to run into trouble, but he preferred the blades. They were personal, and in his capable hands, devastating.

He swung his back over his shoulder and left the key behind in the room, uncaring that he hadn't paid. No one would ever be able to hold him to it, and if they tried they would find it wasn't worth the seventy-five dollars. Ren thought it was far too expensive for what a sad place it was, but he supposed the price came from being the only place for miles. He knew that the stars were not with him that night when the owner came rambling out of the yellow-lit customer service booth.

Ren could see (and smell), very clearly that he was drunk. His wife came out after him, clad in a pair of pajamas that were definitely not the color they had been when they'd been purchased. Ren wasn't paying attention, the man's words coming out in a drunken jumble. He said something about 'knowing' that Ren would skip on his bill, just by the look of him. They would not remember what he looked like, nor would they be able to fix him as a point in their minds.

Ren brushed past him, the solid quality of his frame nearly knocking him off of his feet. He recovered and stood in his path. Ren managed all of this with a chilly exterior. He never gave any indication that any of it bothered him. The man's mistake was to try and get physical with him. Ren caught his arm with the first punch he threw, twisting his arm out of the socket as he turned him around like a pretzel. He enjoyed the sound of the muscle tearing, the yowl of pain. His wife was screaming for help by that point, threatening to call the police.

Ren could feel that the bruise to his pride was more painful to his injured arm, and he came at him again. Ren didn't want to kill him, but it had the futility of a moth beating itself against a bright light. Eventually, the moth would die seeking the light and the warmth.

Ren heard the clatter of the phone hitting the ground and the woman's wails becoming more resolute in their utter desolation. Kylo Ren hadn't even been awake to his actions, his hand jutting out surely after he'd retrieved one of his favored blades. He had sunk it into the man's stomach, just enough. He heard the thinned blood come forth in a jostle of noise, all of those red blood cells rushing to repair the wound. He wiped the blood away from the blade on his coat, looking down for just a brief moment.

"You've killed him! You've killed him! He'll die!"

Ren stooped to retrieve her phone, dropping atop the now prostrate motel owner.

"Not if you call the police," His voice was a surprise, even to him.

Whether or not she had heard his instruction didn't matter to him. Kylo Ren was a ghost, and the motel owner would be sure that he stabbed himself.


	4. Marked for Death

_It was an unfamiliar feeling of warmth. The sun on his face made it clear to him that it might have been a dream, the bleary, fuzzy comfort was something that he rarely experienced. He felt hands tracing the scarred ridges of his back, and the intimacy of it was nearly uncomfortable enough to wake him up. Something drew him back, be it the tender nature of the touching or the warmth that seemed to sink into his bones...he did not wake. When he rolled onto his back, he found the weight of someone else at his front. They smelled of sleep and warmth. Kylo Ren opened his eyes, and he was met with her gaze._

He woke up with a start. He felt a terrible clenching in his chest. There was the feeling of her feathered touches on his skin, and the memory of the sun dappled room. He suddenly felt the need to vomit. It might as well have been a nightmare - for him it would have been less upsetting.

It was upsetting for a number of reasons; he had not initiated it and it did not have his familiar touch of darkness. No, this was something else entirely. It was her. They seemed to know each other so well and the moment had been so lucid he was sure it was a memory, though they had never met.

He tried to shake off the gauzy, spider-like remnants of it. He was pressed up against a heavy, large tree. It was cold, so cold that he had lost feeling in his face and fingertips. He could see his breath. There were frozen droplets of water clinging to his black hair. He could smell dried blood clinging to his jacket. He remembered that had had stabbed someone.

He was Kylo Ren, and this witch's hazel eyes and dark hair would not be enough to shake him from himself.

It became even more important that he find her. He had to get this over with so that he could resume some semblance of normalcy. If she was doing this intentionally, he realized he would have to be ever more vigilant against her. It made him dread their connection. It made him want to shut it off completely.

He knew it would not be an option if he was to find her.

He pulled his phone from his pocket, and there were no alerts. He did not expect any, the phone was purely intended for him to contact Snoke. He did not often, but Kylo Ren felt he might be on the edge of losing his way. He dialed his number, and the phone rang and rang. There was no voicemail, and no one answered. It was a feeling Kylo Ren had gotten used to, being left adrift in the middle of the world. Snoke was angry with him. This had already taken too long.

Ren tried once more, and the silence reigned.

He slid the phone back into his pocket, and he knew he would have to follow this through to be allowed back into his masters' good graces. He would have to see it through before Snoke got it into his mind to send someone else to assist him along with it. He thought of his compatriots, and one stood out among the others. Hux would be pleased to have to come along and babysit Ren, or at least, he would be pleased about Ren's perceived failure.

Ren tried to focus himself, but his thoughts went out in a million different directions. His usually blade sharp focus and intent was muddled.

He kept thinking about the dream.

Despite all attempts not to, he had fallen asleep again.

This time, it was fruitful. Perhaps as the connection opened, it allowed more, but he saw the sign on her cottage. He watched from afar as she tried to dig up all of the infected soil, left dead in his wake. He saw her trying to replant, and felt the frustration of each plant dying. Not only had he seen her, but he had made her attempts to live for herself much more difficult. He doubted she would be listed in the phone book - no witch was so blatantly obvious, but he knew where to start.

He did not stop to pause and think that perhaps she had let him see her, but it would have been beyond what he believed her purview was.

When he woke again, his body was stiff and he was cold. The fire he had lit initially had burned down to embers. He shoved his hands deep in the pockets of his jacket, pulling it tightly around himself as he tried to shake off the grogginess and the oncoming cold. It would be the last time for awhile that he might be able to sleep outside without freezing to death. He smelled snow drifting in with the wind, and winter would be on them soon.

He covered the fire with dirt, kicking it into the pit. He did his best to erase all remnants of his presence there, but a skilled eye would know someone had been there overnight. He was perhaps careless in not making an attempt to blind it with a spell, but it was unlikely that he was being followed.

Careless, maybe, but Kylo Ren had a witch to find.

His truck smelled eerily clean for someone who was on the road most of his life. It wasn't decorated with various fast food bags long empty/long past should-have-been discarded. There was nothing that indicated that a human male occupied the space. It still had that new car scent, despite being something that Ren had picked up off of a used lot with a too-chatty saleswoman who had been chilled and at the same time impressed by him. He had paid in cash and she had forgotten about him - leaving him feeling unsafe with how closely she had tried to edge into him.

The truck lacked the comforting smell of stale french fries, but did he take notice of it?

He turned the key in the ignition and heard the engine rattle to life. He didn't turn the heater on - staving off comforts as if it would undo his progress at turning into a full blown monster. He had worked so hard, after all.

Ren was reckless with his driving. He followed his sense, the slight thread of her that he'd caught in his dream. He had to move quickly before he lost it again, and he had the feeling that he was running out of time. He lost all awareness of the day as it passed, and it began to snow. At first it was slush, and then it became more insistent in it's falling. It stuck to the ground, dusting the area around with inches of powdery white. It might have been idyllic to anyone else. Ren hardly noticed it until it became almost impossible to drive, and he was forced to leave his vehicle on foot.

Only a madman would leave his vehicle on foot in the middle of a blizzard, in the dark of night.

He had with him all he would need. His magic would do the rest.

His head was foggy. His thoughts were dulled by the onslaught of his want. Want? Want for what he could not pin down. If his head was clearer he might have been able to convince himself that it was only his desire to finish the job he had been given, but something new drove him forward.

He began to realize that it was not the after effects of a dream that brought him closer. He felt as if there was a shimmering golden thread connected between himself and her, and all he needed to do was follow it. Why hadn't he seen it before?

Surely, he was going insane.

He did not like how he felt, but he kept going.

* * *

title is based on emma ruth rundle's 'marked for death'. seriously, listen to it.


End file.
